Key chain
by Weaselgirl0904
Summary: I. Missed. North. Korea's. Birthday. Someone kill me. Fluff. The fluffiest North korea story in the world, pplz. And it was done in like 30 minutes, so, in one word, it's CRAPPY But if you read it, I'll love you. North Korea's birthday, and he gets lonely


_SHOUT OUT- HAPPY FRIGGING BIRTHDAY NORTH KOREA! I HOPE THIS YEAR, YOU'LL FINALLY BE ONE WITH SOUTH KOREA –not the other way around- BUT YOU'RE STILL MY FAVORITE OC (I'm sorry Seoul, Jeju, and Dokdo, but, seriously, I love this bastard. And by this bastard, I mean Yong-hwan, my OC North Korea, to those who do not know)_

Yong-hwan stared at his empty house. It was clean, and there were lots of lights, but it just seemed black and white. Maybe he should change the wallpaper. It was starting to yellow. Maybe white wasn't the bets choice color. Why was he worrying so much over his house anyways? It's not like anyone would come over or anythin- OH SHIT, THE DOORBELL JUST RUNG, WHERE THE HELL WAS HIS JACKET? He wanted to look casual as if he didn't realize himself that it was his birthday when someone came to congratulate. He quickly put on his green military jacket, and looked at himself in the mirror. Yong-hwan made a face, then shook his head. It looked to grim. He didn't want to look like that to his first guest. He tried on a Grey, casual one this time. It was too dark, it made him seem like he was in a bad mood. The doorbell rung impatiently. Panicking, Yong-hwan grabbed a white jacket he had hung on his chair last night, and opened the door wearing it.

"Who the hell is-" Yong-hwan wasn't expecting much, just a few people, maybe even Yong-soo, stopping over to say happy birthday, but all he saw was a little boy, about 13, holding a bunch of newspapers.

"H-Hello, sir." The boy said to Yong-hwan, looking like he was going to cry soon. It took Yong-hwan a moment to realize he was glaring daggers at the boy. Yong-hwan cleared his throat and said,

"Yes, what is it?" The boy looked a tad bit more relaxed, but kept his guard up. '_Smart boy_' Yong-hwan thought. '_Cause I feel like killing something right now...And stepping on squirrels'_ He added to his thought, chuckling to himself.

"Would you like to buy a-"

"No, I don't like newspapers. Now get lost, kid." Yong-hwan told him, as politely as possible.

"Please sir!" The boy begged, and he grabbed Yong-hwan's hand in panic. Yong-hwan frowned. What the hell was wrong with this kid? Couldn't he see he was about to punch a hole through a wall in frustration? "I need to sell 10 more by the end of the day, or else I get fired, sir!" The boy begged. Yong-hwan was about to kick this kid in the stomach and lock his door when suddenly, there was a loud 'GROOWWWWLL' coming from that boy's stomach.

"..."

-few minutes later-

'_I would like to know.._.' Yong-hwan thought to himself. '_I would like to know...just how the HELL DID I END UP FEEDING THE BRAT?_' Yong-hwan questioned himself as he gave a sideways glance at the blissfully happy boy squatting next to him outside his house, nibbling on his loaf of bread. Yong-hwan sighed. The boy looked at Yong-hwan for a moment, then asked,

"How old are you, sir?" Yong-hwan gave the boy a long look, then thought to himself, '_I give up. There's maniacs all around me_.'

"15." Yong-hwan replied grimly. Actually, it was his 62nd birthday, but it seemed like no one cared, considering there was no presents, no guests, or anything like the sort. It was like an ordinary day, except, more disappointing because he actually expected something.

"Really? I'm 15 too! We're comrades, aren't we?" The boy said to Yong-hwan excitedly. Yong-hwan gave the boy a look. Comrade? This little boy, was calling HIM, a comrade? He ought to shoot the boy in the face. And he looked too small to be a 15 year old...Suddenly, Yong-hwan felt a pang of guilt. Like it was his fault the boy was short and skinny. It could have been that his puberty was late, for all he knew.

"Look, just...fine. Whatever. And I gave you a piece of bread. Now will you leave?" Yong-hwan asked, hanging onto the last shreds of humanity he had left in him. The boy patted Yong-hwan on the back.

"What's wrong, Comrade? Why so down? As long as the soldiers aren't after you, I can help you out!" The boy told him cheerfully. Yong-hwan gave the boy a glare. How can this kid solve anything.

"Alright then, it's my fucking birthday, and no one in the world –literally- fucking cares." As Yong-hwan finished, he realized how immature and stupid that sounded. He ought to shoot HIMSELF on the face. The boy gave Yong-hwan a smile.

"Buy the papers." The boy told Yong-hwan.

"What?" Yong-hwan asked, pissed off.

"Buy these papers." The boy told him, shoving the papers at Yong-hwan's face. Yong-hwan thought about killing this boy, but decided against it. Yong-hwan calculated that the boy's plan was to sell him papers. If he bought the papers, the boy would leave. Yong-hwan took 10 papers and shoved the money at the boy.

"Now shoo!" Yong-hwan yelled to the boy. The boy grinned, and ran off. Yong-hwan rolled his eyes. How typical. Eat, and run method, except this guy actually earned money too. Yong-hwan massaged his temples, trying to relieve his stress. Yong-hwan was going to go back in, when a shadow fell against him. Yong-hwan looked up and saw the boy, panting, and holding what looked like a...

"Present!" The boy said, panting. The boy handed the present, a small box wrapped with newspaper to Yong-hwan.

"...You bought this...with _my _money?" Yong-hwan asked. The boy nodded proudly. Yong-hwan stared at the boy, then at the present, then laughed.

"You crazy bastard! What are you going to do if I hate this? I want my money back!" Yong-hwan said, laughing all the while. The boy laughed with him.

"I told you I can solve it, Comrade-"

"Yong-hwan aru?" A voice called out behind Yong-hwan. Yong-hwan turned around and saw Yao, his face showing clearly how surprised he was.

"Comrade China!" Yong-hwan said, standing up straight, military style. The boy stared at Yao with awed eyes.

"So that's a Chinese?" The boy asked Yong-hwan. Yong-hwan full-out ignored him.

"W-w-w-w-w-what brings you here?" Yong-hwan asked. As if right on cue, Yong-soo jumped out behind Yao's back and shouted,

"SURPRISE!" It was a big surprise indeed. Yong-hwan jolted so hard, he tripped on air and fell down on his bottom.

"Fuck!" He shouted in pain.

"Oh, mind your language, North Korea." Vietnam said, suddenly appearing out of nowhere. Or was it that he, the great North Korea was getting blurry eyed? Yong-hwan rubbed his eyes, and felt his hands get wet.

"What the..." Yong-hwan looked at his hand, and felt two watery streaks coming down his cheeks. He realized he was crying in public, and quickly wiped his tears away.

"Don't be such a crybaby, Yong-hwan!" Yong-soo scolded playfully.

"Or are you sad to see us, da?" Russia asked, coming late because his hands were full of boxes. Beautiful, gift wrapped boxes, full of birthday presents.

"Open mine first! Mine's the blue one over there! The one with white spots on it!" Yong-soo told Yong-hwan. Yong-hwan tried to see, but his eyes kept on getting blurry, and he couldn't see.

"Oh, you can't start crying now! We haven't even done anything heartwarming yet! We're the only ones that came, but Portugal, Bulgaria, Iran, Mongolia, and Pakistan send their regards and their presents! We even managed to rip some money off of England! He and you are in 'ok' terms, right?" Vietnam asked. Yong-hwan nodded. He wiped his tears, but more kept flooding out.

"Damn it! It's 2 in the fucking afternoon! I thought I was fucking ignored!" Yong-hwan whined. They all laughed. Russia stretched out a hand to help Yong-hwan off the ground. Yong-hwan wiped his face, and took his hand, standing up. He faced back to the boy, who was fidgeting, circling the ground with his feet.

"...My present looks kinda..."

"Crappy, yeah." Yong-hwan finished. Yong-hwan opened the newspaper-wrapped present, and found a small key chain. The key chain was a traditional Korean drum, miny-sized. Yong-hwan bit his lips to hide a smile and said, "I bet when I compare it to the rest of the gifts, it'll look pretty crappy." Yong-hwan walked to the boy, and gave him $100 in his hand. "I don't want to go back all the way to return this. And I still have to pay you for your newspapers." Yong-hwan said.

"But I used your money to-"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Yong-hwan interrupted, finally couldn't help but smiling. Smiling wide enough to show his teeth. "Today's my birthday, and I'm in a good mood, so I'll buy 10 newspapers here, Comrade." Yong-hwan turned back to the other countries, his friends, and said, "A drinking party, tonight. Whoever wins, can have these newspapers for free!"

_HAHAHA CRAPPY CRAPPY, CHEESY STORY. I'm sorry, I just had to finish this before Yong-hwan's spirit comes to haunt me. I had to post it soon as possible. North Korea's 'birthday' was September 9__th__, which means I'm fucking LATE AS HELL. XD But my birthday was 5 days before his, and so I kinda forgot. I'm sorry~ I still love you, you little bastard you~ This ought to be the fluffiest North Korea story yet. Comrade is how acquaintances call each other in North korea...translated to English, of course.  
_


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